


The Lorelei Chronicles: Comfort

by The_Bisexy_Whovian_Werewolf



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7934191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bisexy_Whovian_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Bisexy_Whovian_Werewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lorelei can't handle her life, can she turn to the Doctor for help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lorelei Chronicles: Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for LANGUAGE ONLY

“Jackass!”  
“Go to hell, bitch!”  
“Fuck you, motherfucker!”

If there was one thing my parents did well, it was argue. If there was an award ceremony for anger, they'd win every category, because they didn't _just_ argue. When they disagreed on something, they screamed, they cursed, they threatened divorce, and they ripped each other apart. Every time, it would start off with something small. Tonight, it was dishwashing.

“You promised you'd do the dishes today. Now I have nothing to cook with”, my father sighed when he came home from work.  
“Yeah, sorry, okay? I had a long day too. This house is a fucking mess and I had to clean all of it”, my mom replied passive aggressively.  
“Well maybe if we didn't have so much junk, there wouldn't be so much stuff to clean”.  
“Junk? Like all your subscriptions to those useless magazines that we can hardly afford?”.

That how all the fights started. I could never understand it. Who the hell fights about something as small as dishes? The fights would always escalate from there. In this particular fight, my dad had driven off in anger while my mom slept, weary from sobbing and threating to take me away. That was the worst part, I think. It was bad enough that they had to argue, but dragging me into it? My dad would be back, like always. It wasn't the first time he'd done this. But it didn't make me feel better. I was shaking. My thoughts were racing a million miles per hour. Why couldn't I have regular, loving parents, who didn't spend every other weekend at each other’s throats? Sure we had our good times, happy times even, but those were few and far between. I tried to talk about it with them, and they always said they would "try harder". Hell, my dad even tried to convince me that this was all normal, but I knew better. I blamed both of them, but my mom in particular. She was always freaking out over tiny things. She was the one who started it today by complaining about what we can and can't afford, as if we were impoverished. The truth is, we had a pretty nice life. We weren't in financial trouble or anything. It's just that my mom’s idea of a “nice” life involved mansions, hot rods, and fancy vacations every year. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't, for fear of waking my mom. If she saw me upset, she'd just get angrier at my dad for “making” me cry, as if she had nothing to do with it. I ran into my room, tears beginning to fall. I stared at my hot pink sheets with contempt. 

_Bang_

I punched the bed with all my might. I needed someway to release my anger, if not screaming.

_Bang  
Bang_

I punched harder, baring my teeth and growling. I could feel my nose burning, like it always did before a big sobbing fest began. The shaking got worse, starting from the center of my chest and sending vibrations outwards, everywhere on my body. . I felt like my heart was about to explode. Finally it became too much, and I had to give in. I gasped for breath, which released tears simultaneously. Deep, short sobs resonated from my throat. I laid on my bed, face down, cuddling a stuffed animal. It was so cold; my mom always kept the temperature low. I hadn't bothered to turn the lights on, and it was cloudy outside, leaving the room a dull and depressing shade of gray. I wanted to be able to go to her or my dad for comfort, but I couldn't, and that hurt me even more. There was one person I could go to for comfort, but I didn't want to bother him. However, I decided that anything was better than the torture of staying in this horrible house with these horrible people. I couldn't quite concentrate enough to send myself to a specific destination, so I just had to hope that I didn't interrupt him while he was doing something important.

 

The pink sheets began to fade under me, and soon my whole bed was gone. I hit the metal floor with a thud. Between sobbing and having to maintain a connection with the Doctor, I didn't have enough energy to stand up. I wasn't exactly sure when I was. I knew _where_ I was, the TARDIS console room, but _when_ in the Doctor’s timeline was a mystery. It didn't matter to me anyways. Any incarnation of the Doctor would understand my sorrow.  
“Dear god, what happened?”  
He left his post at the control panel and raced to me. Crouching, he rolled me over into my back, allowing him to see my red, wet face, and allowing me to see his normal one. It was Six. If I hadn't recognized his face, I still would have known him by his clothes, especially his jacket. I'd always liked that jacket. It was so bright and cheerful, often a stark contrast to Six himself. But not today; today, he could see I was in need, and his expression softened. He scooped me up in his arms, pulling me into a desperately needed hug. I clinged to him, sobbing and burying my face in his jacket.  
“It's alright. Everything is going to be okay”, he whispered, stroking my hair. Most people who'd seen the show found Six to be arrogant, self-absorbed, and emotionally distant. They weren't wrong, most of the time. But on rare occasions like today, when someone he loved was in extreme emotional distress, he would muster up every ounce of sympathy he had in order to help them. He carried me through the halls of the TARDIS to a destination unknown to me. I would have read his mind, but I was still far too weak. I didn't have to wait very long though. The hallways were comfortingly warm. We stopped at a silver, hexagonal door. I knew this particular door well. It was the TARDIS library. As we walked into the room, the familiar smell of books wafted in the air. The library itself was enormous. Not as big as the planet from _Silence in the Library_ , of course, but still much bigger than any Earth library. There were two leather chairs in the center of the room, and underneath them was a giant, blue, circular carpet. I had fond memories of curling up on that rug with a good book, basking in the comforting warmth that filled the TARDIS. The TARDIS was always warm to me, considering how cold my house was. The Doctor set me down in one of the chairs before taking a seat in the other. He was sitting close enough to me to squeeze my hand. He spoke softly, in a way that reminded me of his fourth self;  
“Care to tell me what's troubling you?”  
I was unable to speak for a minute. When I tried to stop sobbing, I began to gasp in short breaths, as if I were hyperventilating. When I finally calmed down, all I could manage was this:  
“They're horrible, Doctor!. They're so horrible!”. He nodded wisely while stroking my hand. Although I'd stopped sobbing and gasping, tears were still falling from my eyes, obscuring my vision. It didn't help that I wasn't wearing my glasses. The Doctor blurred into a contradicting mess of color and paleness. I wiped my eyes and proceeded to tell him everything from start to finish, including all the swear words and divorce threats. His expression had saddened by the time I was done.  
“I'm sorry you had to go through that”, he murmured.  
I sniffed.  
“It's alright. It's been happening for as long as I can remember. You'd think I'd be used to it by now”. I laughed bitterly, more out of spite than anything else.  
“Don't say that, Lorelei. You don't have to ‘get used’ to anything. Your parents are being completely childish and inappropriate”.  
Those were the words I wanted to hear, because they were true. My parents would never admit to it, and I couldn't tell anyone in my universe about their behavior for fear of retribution. Sometimes I wondered if maybe I was wrong, if maybe their behavior really was normal like they told me. The confirmation from the Doctor felt so damn good, I smiled a little. He smiled back. I still wasn't happy, however. I was plagued by the fact that I’d be stuck living with them until I was eighteen, and even after that I might still have to deal with their behavior from time to time. I wanted to escape **permanently** , not just for a little bit like I always do. I turned to face the Doctor, armed with a single request.  
“Take me away Doctor. Please, let me live with you in the TARDIS, like a real companion. I can even take Baxter with me! We can see the universe together.”.  
He appeared to think it over for a moment before sighing. He shook his head sadly.  
“I'm sorry Lorelei, but I can't let you do that”.  
My nose began to burn again. My sadness quickly drained and was replaced by disgust and anger. I slammed my fist on the armrest and rose from the chair. The Doctor could see I was crestfallen and enraged.  
“Why not?! Why can't I stay with you? Isn't that what you do? You rescue people from their miserable lives and show them the wonders of the universe! You did it with Victoria, Nyssa, Peri, and so many others!”.  
He took my hand to calm me. I slid onto the rug despairingly, not letting go. He began to rub my back.  
“I understand, Lorelei. I would love to take you and Baxter with me, away from such terrible people, but listen: if you and Baxter leave your bodies and don't return to them within a couple of days, you'll die of malnourishment. You know you will”.

He was right, of course. I hadn't thought of that. I'd never be able to escape my parents fully. I began to sob again. The Doctor picked me up and held me to his chest.  
“I know it's hard. Believe me, I know. But just remember this: even if you can't be with me permanently, I will **always** be here for you, no matter what. Even if I regenerate a thousand times, you can always still come to me”.  
Not only did that sentiment calm me down, but I even grinned through my tears. He _would_ always be there for me. My adventures with his future incarnations had proved that. The Doctor raised my head and wiped my tears.  
“See now, there's a grin”, he bubbled, but his expression suddenly went blank.  
“It's getting late…”, he mumbled. He hadn't needed a watch to know that. A Time Lord’s internal clock was always correct. I was rather tired. Even though I was feeling much better, the whole ordeal had worn me out, and the Doctor knew it.  
“Well, you should go to bed soon”, he mused.  
Alarmingly, he picked me up, placed me on the rug, and zoomed over to one of the library shelves. He returned in an instant with a book in his hand, one that I recognized. Alice in Wonderland, one of my favorites.  
“How about a bedtime story?”, he beamed.  
I nodded vigorously, before laying my head down on the rug and closing my eyes. I knew how this would go. He'd make up funny voices for all the characters, and I’d imagine myself as Alice, doing the Mock Turtle’s dance and having tea with the Mad Hatter. The Doctor opened to the very first page, and began:

       _Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do..._

**Author's Note:**

> So, there are certainly going to be some people who will read this and accuse me of writing the sixth Doctor out of character. I understand that during his time with Peri, he was cold, arrogant, and certainly not warm or caring. However, my argument is this: It's been definitely established that the Doctor was a father (Susan didn't just come from nowhere). So, when he sees 13-year-old Lorelei in distress, he does what any father does and cares for her, even if he's generally a jerk. Believe me, the sixth Doctor's personality issues WILL be addressed in a future story. But not now.


End file.
